Page 65 of Drive Me Crazy
“You’re so fucking good at sucking my cock, baby,” I croak out. “If this were a sport, you’d be a world champ.”
The chuckle she releases vibrates against me and I whimper blissfully. She leans back, making a popping noise as I slide out of the warmth of her mouth.
“Your what?”
“Cock.”
“Hm.Don’t know what that is.”
If I die of blue balls, I would like it to be known that it’s because my girlfriend wants me to call my dick by one of her insane nicknames.
“Will you please continue sucking”—I struggle to think of a name because I refuse to refer to my dick as King Dong—“my stick shift.”
Ella leans back over, slipping my “stick shift” between her parted lips. She hollows out her cheeks as she bobs her head, twisting one hand around the base of me where her lips can’t reach. The pulsing, vibrating need wracking my body is blinding. I’m desperate, arching up to meet her slowly measured rhythm. Incoherent praise encourages Ella to pick up her pace. She’s swirling her tongue around me like I’m a goddamn Popsicle on a hot summer day.
“Wait, Ella, stop.”
She shoots up with a confused look on her face. I immediately realize my mistake. No man with a fucking pulse would interrupt their girlfriend giving them the best head of their life.
“I want to finish inside you.” The hint of a smirk appears on my lips. “Want you to come with me.”
Her cheeks redden at my words, but she nods eagerly, leaning over to grab a condom from the nightstand. She rips the packaging open with her teeth, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. We both love foreplay, especially Ella, but it’s obvious she doesn’t care about me returning the favor right now.
She slowly eases down onto me, inch by incredible inch. She feels so tight and warm, I swear I almost pass out from how she’s gripping me. I’m trying to think of sad things to distract from the feeling, but the only sad thing I can think of is that she’s not moaning in pleasure.
“Interview me.”
Hereyes widen in surprise. I’m aware that my ask is insane. I’m inside her and rather than give her what she wants—hell, what we both want—I’m asking her to interview me. The one thing I constantly complain about.
“Did you mean to sayride me?”
Her body rocks with laughter and the movement causes my balls to tighten. My hands grip her hips to keep her still. I may bruise her from holding on too tightly. “I’d like to last longer than thirty seconds after that blowjob.”
She smirks, very pleased with herself. “Fine. Um, what’s your least favorite candy?”
“Popping candy. They make my tongue feel weird and I hate the sound.”
The surprise appearance of a devilish grin makes me nervous. “I have a follow-up question.”
What follow-up question could she possibly have about popping candy?
“Do you think if I put popping candy in my mouth and then put your dick in my mouth, your dick would get the tingly sensation? Or would it just be uncomfortable? Sort of like gravel?”
It’s a good thing I’m not standing because her question would’ve knocked me right off my feet. Laughter leaves my body at an alarmingly fast rate. Has she seriously thought this in depth about fucking popping candy? And in that capacity? Her weird follow-up question does the trick and I’m ready. So fucking ready.
She lazily rolls her hips, finding a groove she likes.Fuck.It takes an insane amount of patience not to take control. Ella wants to go slow and soft, and I want to go fast and hard. But I’ll do anything to keep this girl happy and if that means giving up the dominance I crave for a bit, so be it. I love seeing how expressive her face is when I’m inside her, watching her as she bites down on her lip in concentration, focusing on her pleasure. I move my thumb so it’s pressed against her clit and her pace falters slightly as she adjusts to the new sensation. Her moans are more angelic than any choir I’ve ever heard.
It doesn’t take long before she’s riding out the waves of her climax. Her body melts into mine and she can’t do anything but lean against my chest and clutch my arms as I slam into her sloppily and quickly. My hands find her arse, squeezing and kneading until she whimpers in response.
I thrust up, hitting her sweet spot just like I do every time. It’s something I’m incredibly smug over—knowing her body well enough to know exactly what to do and where to touch to get her to moan. And there’s absolutely nothing more satisfying than bringing Ella to a euphoric state. The air fills with broken pants as I get close to my release. As she gently reaches back to massage me, my balls tighten in her palm just before I explode in pleasure, grunting as I lose control to a shattering orgasm. We’re both spent, breathing in short, shallow breaths.
“I’m addicted to you, baby,” I murmur into her neck. “Your taste, your noises, your feel.”
“Me too.” Ella presses her forehead against mine. “Should we check into rehab?”
“Nah.” I chuckle. “Fluff that.”
TWENTY-NINE
